The Unexpected Trip
by HannibalSolo
Summary: I added what I have so far of this, which I also post on my deviantArt account. This is an Avengers x Reader fic, and it is a slightly altered history than the second Thor movie, but I hope that you enjoy what I have so far, dear readers. I should add it is rated T for the use of cuss words, but I hope you may still enjoy it, nonetheless.
1. Chapter 1

The small Miller Lite desk lamp glowed cheerily behind your laptop as the Summer light streamed mercilessly and wonderfully through the large window of your second-floor dorm. The faintest hint of your "Coffee with dark chocolate chip" flavored greek yogurt could still be tasted on your lips as you licked them in absent-minded dubiousness. You were trying to finish this monologue you were supposed to write for your final group project of this semester, and you hated it. Every single word, every single character that tumbled out onto the open Word document before you filled you with a deep sense of irritation. First of all, group projects equaled terrible in your mind, and that's mostly because they really do suck balls. Secondly, you only had two more days until you were free for the Summer. You really could not wait, so much so, that to be required to do such a stupid project for a class you hadn't wanted to take to begin with was really killing your mood. The most aggravating piece of all of this was that you knew that given the chance you could write all of your partners' parts too and better than they could, which you'd hate to admit out loud because you knew how that would sound. But, hey, it's no wonder you identified with characters like Sherlock Holmes and Khan, you know, anti-heroes and villains, which always garnered you funny looks from your Captain America and Superman loving friends.

Your roommate was studying for her exams, quietly and unobtrusively, which you really appreciated about her, though you regretted somewhat that you could not always return the favor. You got so bored and so anxious to be active in something, but unable to concentrate, that you had a pension for getting into a little bit of partying and late-night wanderings, which resulted in your arriving back to your room at obscene hours and sometimes quite intoxicated. Though you were tame compared to the vast majority of your other classmates, and your roommate never complained of you disturbing her in any consequential way. Still, sometimes you wished you could just be satisfied like all the other boring people around, but this world just didn't seem like enough sometimes. Enough to keep you interested that is. At least when it came to the human population. You had a healthy appreciation for the beauty and wonder of natural things and even inanimate things like buildings and monuments, but people in general just seemed so BORING. Good God help you and forgive you, but most people were so boring, and those that weren't were all older than you with lives separate from the path you were on. You wished more than anything that villains, heroes, anti-heroes, and all of that magical and sci-fi stuff was real because those characters were interesting and the prospect of adventure ensuing with characters like those around was practically guaranteed.

The clock at the bottom, right-hand corner of your computer screen read 5:55 and your roommate stood up, gathering a couple things, before informing you that she was off to meet a couple people for dinner. She invited you, but you politely declined in favor of finishing your painful and aggravating work. Mostly because the prospect of socializing with unfamiliars was terrifying and even more irritating than the half-finished monologue that your eyes were focused on now. She left and you were blessedly alone. Not that you didn't like her, but being alone was so much better. That way you couldn't feel anyone thinking near you because, as strange as it sounded, it was really distracting when you could feel someone thinking near you or when you knew someone was thinking thoughts near you. That was probably just the product of your active imagination and your chronic neurotic tendencies combining in a soupy mixture of nervous paranoia that coated your mind.

You kept attempting to take deep breaths to keep from exploding with anger and rage-quitting. This is what prevented your from taking notice of a muffled hissing sound coming from your closet, until it began to grow in intensity. Your I-pod was in the back pocket of your dark-wash jeggings, and you were reaching for it when your ears pricked up at the noise. You frowned. What the hell? you thought, almost muttering it aloud. You cautiously rose from your desk, creeping to the closed closet door, the hissing growing to a growling. Your candy-apple red t-shirt felt thin in the face of the chill that was emanating from within your closet, as you inched closer and closer. Your two-tone Vans glided silently along the carpet, until your hand gripped the cold, metal handle turning it ever so slowly, the chill becoming almost unbearable. What you found when you looked inside your closet was unbelievable to say the least. Where, once your shoes and bags had rested in a happy state of pandemonium there was a gaping, shining portal. Like straight out of the video game Portal. Your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped. "I'm dreaming, right?" you whispered to yourself.

As you stared at the portal, you became transfixed. You tried to look away, but you couldn't. You tried to moved your feet and your legs, but neither responded. Then you began to panic, hyperventilating and barely holding back a hysterical cry. Suddenly, the portal was pulling you in, like a tractor beam, and you were plunged through it to God-knows-where and God-knows-when.

The next thing you knew was contact with a cold metal floor, and gasping consciousness. Light, noises, voices, shouts of surprise, and your vision refocused, as a sense of sudden concreteness nauseated you with its utter heaviness. A vaguely familiar voice said, "Since when do cute, nerdy co-eds pop out of thin air—Guys! You shouldn't have! My birthday's not even 'til next week." Your head still felt fuzzy, but you tried to regain control and turn towards the source of that voice.

"Tony, seriously? We would never give you another person as a gift. That would be a crime against humanity…for so many reasons. Besides your birthday's not until next month, so stop trying to pull that crap," said another familiar voice.

"Oh, c'mon, Bruce! You're no fun. I'd give you whatever you wanted for your birthday, science buddy."

"I'd never ask for a person."

"Touche, Jolly Green Giant. Touche."

"Tony," said Bruce in a menacing tone.

You finally had oriented yourself mentally, but you were thrown for a loop by the sight you took in, not believing any of it for a second. There, in what appeared to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting room were none other than Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. You barely registered Clint Barton hanging quietly to the side, observing his fellow Avengers and you, curiously assessing the situation. Before you had a chance to adjust to this situation, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Thor Odinson, and Director Nick Fury burst into the room, preparing themselves to begin the scheduled meeting. Phil Coulson was right on their heels. You gawked, a numbing state of shock settling in. Nick Fury caught sight of you, as did the rest of the group that was piling in. He stopped cold and looked at Tony. "What did you do?"

"What! That's the first thing you ask? What did I do?" Tony shouted indignantly. Bruce chuckled, but looked over at you worriedly because you hadn't spoken a word since you appeared from nowhere. You were just sitting there gaping at all of them, and he could sense you were very confused and possibly afraid, and he felt bad.

"For once, Fury, Tony really didn't do anything. She appeared from thin air just a couple minutes ago. I think she's in a state of shock, and I don't think we should just let her sit there on the floor," Bruce said.

Steve was looking at you with concern, and was nodding along with what Bruce was saying. "We can figure out who she is and how she got here after we've made sure she's okay," said the super-soldier with an air of finality, which Fury bristled at. You felt inside you a bit of control returning and seized it greedily, using it to blink rapidly and take a deep breath. Words started forming on your lips, but, before you could refine them into a rational statement, they tumbled out.

"Dude, what the hell did I smoke?"

Tony burst out laughing, and Clint snickered from his perch to the side. You blushed and shook yourself. "I mean, 'cause you guys can't be real. You're all just characters from comic books and movies. This is impossible!" You barely got the words out, before one of your favorite quotes of all time passed through your mind. "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Dammit, Sherlock, you thought angrily. Then you pinched yourself. Really hard. You cried out, muttering, "Okay, so not a dream." It occurred to you that, if this was real, then you might never see your mother or siblings again. That realization washed through you, and you desperately fought back the wave of nausea and torrent of tears that threatened to burst over. "Oh God," you whispered unintentionally. A hand was laid on your shoulder, and you almost jerked away when you realized it belonged to Steve (Captain freakin' America!) whose intense, deep blue eyes stared back into your own equally vibrant and unique eyes.

"It's okay, kid. No one's gonna hurt you. Now, what are you trying to tell us?" he said with the most serious of expressions. You were emotionally overloaded and distraught, but your natural sarcasm seemed to come out of its own accord.

"Oh, just that Timmy fell in the well…Again. He's a real klutz," you said, scoffing at yourself and beginning to rub your temples. Tony snorted and Bruce was trying to conceal a smile. "Sorry, Steve—er, Captain Amer—I mean person who I don't know," you stammered, unsure whether you should reveal all that you knew, biting your lower lip because you'd kind of ruined any chance for true subtlety that you might have had just then. Still, you could control how much you revealed. Steve stepped back from you, looking confused.

"Very smooth," said Tony.

"Oh, shut up, Iron-sides," you snapped, and then you resisted the urge to slap yourself. Iron-sides was how you always referred to Tony in your fangirl sessions with friends. Bruce laughed and Clint and Natasha did, as well.

"Wait, do you know who all of us are?" Steve asked.

"Yes, of course, I do. I have no idea what the hell all of this is, but not ten minutes ago, I was sitting in my dorm, working on some stupid final project, in a world where you guys are just fictional characters in comic books and movies, where there's no such thing as magic or sci-fi stuff to the extent that's in all of those comics and movies, when this hissing sound came from my closet. I went to investigate and found a big-ass portal just chilling in my closet. Like a portal straight from the video game Portal. Then I got sucked in and wound up right here, where I am now." You stopped and took some more deep breaths.

"How do we know that any of what you're saying is true?" Fury asked.

"Okay, I know all of you guys' super hero names and real names. You're the Director of the top secret organization S.H.I.E.L.D., Mr. Nick Fury. He's Steve Rogers aka Captain America. He's Tony Stark aka Iron Man, he's Thor Odinson aka Tropic-Thunder, he's Bruce Banner aka The Hulk, he's Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, and she's Natasha Romanov aka Black Widow. Oh, and he's Agent Phil Coulson, who we all should love and cherish. I know all of this because I am a huge, delightfully nerdy fangirl. If I were some sort of counter agent come to sabotage whatever it is you're meeting is about, then you think I might have come up with a less conspicuous infiltration plan, in less conspicuous clothes, and a bit more, I don't know, armed with weapons. Unless you count music as a weapon because I do have, in that case, a very deadly I-pod sitting in my back pocket," you finished, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, she has a point," said Clint, stepping into the light. Bruce nodded, while Thor looked somewhat perplexed by the whole situation.

"The assassin speaks true. I concur. I see nothing about this young Midgardian lady that suggests she has any sinister motives. Though I am not sure what comic books and these pods-of-the-I are…" the handsome god mused aloud. Tony smirked.

"Alright, now that we're hopefully done interrogating and possibly traumatizing her, can we maybe decide how we're going to figure out how to get her home?" Bruce suggested.

"We have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment, in case you have forgotten why I called you all here in the first place, Dr. Banner," said Fury grumpily. You felt a pang of panic, but it was diluted by your curiosity. Yes, you were concerned with getting home, but you also wanted to know where in the Avengers' storyline you were. You'd missed a couple of the movies from recent times and weren't entirely certain what was going on. "I think it goes without saying that you will keep everything you hear in this room a secret on pain of death." Fury looked at you, eyes practically boring holes into your skull, and you nodded emphatically. "Good, now, I called you all here to discuss the terms of Loki's rehabilitation. Thor has been a liaison on our behalf with Asgard in order to arrange for Loki to be put under our care, so to speak. He will be able to speak, so don't get any bright ideas, Stark. He will be under house arrest within Stark Tower, and his powers will be greatly reduced." Tony began sputtering out protests, as did the rest of the team, aside from Coulson and Thor. "There will be no negotiations. This plan of action is final and already under way. Get used to it. Dismissed. Stark, the girl stays at your tower until such a time as a solution is discovered for returning her back to her universe. She is not to leave, unless supervised by at least one Avenger, preferably one of the ones that is actually a fully-functioning adult." There was some more sputtering.

"I'm not a child! I don't need to be babysat!" you cried out.

"You know too much to be let out into the world without someone keeping an eye on you, on the off chance that you're a very good liar or that one of our many enemies catches wind of a weak and vulnerable college kid who happens to know our secrets. I'm sure you follow my logic," Fury finished, raising his eyebrows as if daring you to contradict him. You gulped as the implications of all that had happened sunk in, chewing at your bottom lip again nervously. With that, Nick Fury left the room trailed closely by Coulson.

"Well, kid, guess you're stuck with us," Tony said, smirking.

"Are you sure it's not you who's stuck with me?" you asked irritably.

"Don't be such a Warhead Sandwich," Tony said dismissively, his vernacular confusing Thor again and Steve too this time. "Just think of it this way, you're getting an early vacation with the Avengers included as a bonus. So, c'mon—Y'know, it just occurred to me that we have no idea what your name is…"

You stood up, Steve reaching out to steady you when you swayed with dizziness. You tried not to think too much about the fact that Captain America was practically holding you because you knew you would blush if you did. You introduced yourself and looked shyly at your shoes, shuffling your feet a bit. No amount of high school or college theater prepared you for speaking to some of your favorite fictional characters of all time in person. All of the Avengers collectively said greetings in return.

"Well, now that all the boring stuff's out of the way, let's go give you a tour of your new vacation home! Before all that Loki shit crashes down and puts me in a bad mood for the next century," Tony chimed with a wink that caused a slightly embarrassed flush to light up your cheeks.

The mention of Loki jolted you mentally, as it occurred to you that you would be living in the tower with the god of mischief and lies. Well, to him you'd probably just be another quim, and you'd never speak or even cross paths, and then the Avengers would find a way to send you home and that'd be all she wrote. Right?


	2. Chapter 2

"Here's the living room, where every Friday we have mandatory superhero-game-night," said Tony in a fake, goofy manner, mimicking the stereotypical, uptight tour guide.

"Mandatory games? Sounds like the one time we had Easter at my dad's. Thank God he finally gave up on being in our lives," you muttered half to yourself, though Thor, who had (along with Steve) volunteered to join you on Tony's tour of the tower to keep you company, heard you and looked at you.

"What do you mean, Lady _! What is this Easter you speak of?" Thor's voice boomed out, causing you to cringe slightly.

Tony looked a little miffed that his ridiculously dramatized tour had been interrupted, but you stopped and bit your lip, as all three men waited expectantly. "Well, Easter is a Midgardian holiday, where there is a big bunny that brings eggs, er, full of candy to children in baskets. I-if you're religious, it's also a day that, in the Christian faith, is believed to have been the day the Christian Savior rose from the dead," you said shakily, unsure how else to explain it. Thor looked so immensely perplexed.

"You Midgardians are so strange, but what about what you said of your father? What do you mean by 'he gave up on being in your lives?'" Thor inquired. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry suddenly.

"Well, I just—I just mean," you stuttered. "Nothing, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just being cynical and angsty, y'know, normal teenager stuff," you added with a sarcastic "ha-ha." You felt really uncomfortable, wishing you hadn't said anything, but sometimes you couldn't control your big, fat mouth. Tony, oddly enough, came to your rescue.

"I hope that is the last interjection for the duration of this guided tour because I don't have all damn day, contrary to popular belief," said the genius, billionaire with a sassy cocking of his eyebrow. You guffawed and nodded, while Steve gave Tony a stern look and Thor continued appearing utterly lost.

As your party made their way down a long hallway, Tony finally came to a door, which he swung open ceremoniously. "Now, we come to the most interesting exhibit on this level—Your new room. Please note that touching everything is encouraged and recommended," he said with another one of those winks. You looked around and realized that the room by itself could fit three-fourths of your house in it by itself right before Tony pointed out the door to your own bathroom to you. Steve opened the curtains that concealed a gigantic bay window that looked out over the city, going to lean against the mini-bar in the bar, as Thor took a perch by the window, watching cars passing by in the street below. Steve grinned at your stupefied expression. "Something isn't it?" he said mildly.

"I'll say," you responded, spinning around to take everything in. "Hey, where did Iron-Sides go?" Thor swiveled his head to look at the doorway, where Tony had been standing. Steve appeared puzzled too. Before you had too much time to speculate, Tony reappeared, grinning with his hands behind his back, which almost certainly meant trouble. However, he surprised you.

"So, I remembered you mentioned something about a deadly I-pod in one of your butt pockets, and I figured music's as close as you can get to home right now, so here." He pulled an I-pod cord and dock from behind and thrust them toward you, obviously very proud of himself. You were actually very touched by the gesture, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes again, which you fought tooth and nail for dominance over. Your hands almost trembled as you reached out to accept the gifts.

"Thank you so much," you whispered, giving Tony a small but sincere smile. He seemed suddenly embarrassed.

"Ah, don't mention it, kid. Just promise you won't be blasting Taylor Swift at obscene hours of the day, like any hour of the day that is."

"Oh, that shouldn't be too difficult a promise to make," you said laughingly.

"Alright, well I don't know about these two slobs, but I have a job I should probably get back to. I mean I guess. Just ask Jarvis if you need anything, including me," he said, waggling his eyebrows up and down, making you laugh and blush more. "You're pretty much allowed anywhere in the tower, except the lower levels, obvi. But there are movies, video games, food, drugs, alcohol—"

"—Tony!" Steve cried.

"Right, no drugs or alcohol for you. That would be illegal. God forbid. Anyway, that's pretty much it. Oh, yeah, we do have a big ass library, though I don't know why…" he trailed off. "Anyway, I'll catch ya' later, kid. Settle in, make yourself at home, and stuff. So, yeah, alright, see ya'." With that he hopped out of the room. Steve approached you, placing his hands on your shoulders reassuringly.

"We're gonna get you home, ma'am, or do our damndest to do so. But you're welcome here for as long as it takes, if you have any trouble with anything or _anyone_ just let me know," Steve said seriously, surprising you with his cussing. He was so sweet. You felt better just listening to him. "I have to go now to oversee the transfer of Loki's custody with Director Fury, but, otherwise, when I'm not on assignment, I'm at your disposal."

You couldn't help it. You fan-girled a little bit. "D'awwwww! Steve! You're so adorable, thank you!" you gushed, making the face you might make at an fuzzy Corgi puppy. He blushed and grinned.

"Well, I'd like to think so, ma'am. I'll see you later today probably. Bye," he said, giving your shoulders a light squeeze before he exited the room. Thor stepped toward you.

"It was lovely to meet you, madam! However, I must return to Asgard to oversee the transfer of my brother to the Avengers' care from the other end, to make sure all goes as it is planned. Goodbye, for now," the god said, clapping your shoulder a little too hard by accident. He looked to the ceiling. "HEIMDALL!" You cowered, dropping to the floor in terror at the fright of Thor's voice at full volume, before glancing back up, seeing he'd disappeared. You let out a relieved sigh.

In the silence that proceeded you went to the door, shutting it and turning around. The queen-sized bed nearby looked pretty inviting. You hadn't slept the night before back in your universe, so you were tired already writing that stupid monologue, now you realized, whether it was portal-jumping drag or whatever, that you were exhausted. You crawled onto the cushy surface of the blue-grey comforter, almost moaning with how delightfully comfortable it really was. You searched around the sides of the bed, finding a socket to plug the I-pod dock into, sticking the I-pod form your pocket in place after having done so, and scrolling through and putting it on shuffle of your soothing and melancholy mix. A few Morrisey and Radiohead songs played through, when suddenly "Me and Denver" by Dan Andriano In the Emergency Room came on, and really struck you cold.

_"__I'm looking out at this great big sky_

_And from this highway I'm supposed to be free_

_Is it so simple just like that 'cause it's a shame that where you're at_

_Isn't always where you really wanna be_

_I can be stuck way out here_

_And I can feel the exact same way_

_Yeah my heart keeps its pace_

_And my coffee tastes the same_

_And I miss you more than I did yesterday_

_So tonight me and Denver are gonna sing_

_For all the broken hearts in late night bars that spill out in the streets._

_If you're tired and you're cold and you've got no place to go,_

_I'll be praying that we all get home someday."_

Your heart squeezed painfully, as the chorus made you think of your mom and your brother and sister. The covers felt cold with disuse, as you initially pulled them over yourself, and your hands curled around them tightly, your face turned into one of the big pillows at the head of the bed. The tears wouldn't stay inside any longer. No matter how cool it seemed hypothetically, meeting the Avengers for real wasn't worth losing your loved ones, and potentially causing them God knows how much trauma. You were sad and infinitely scared, feeling small and forgotten in a big, unknown universe.

_"__Here in the mountains it's starting to get cold_

_You can see it in the faces of the old_

_And the young alike, 'cause they're unhappy and they're right_

_And I'm dying while my baby sleeps at home_

_And so tonight me and Denver are gonna sing_

_For all the broken hearts in late night bars that spill out in the streets._

_If you got no place to go, well I'll be praying so ya' know_

_That we all get what we're looking for someday._

_If you're tired and you're cold and you've got no place to go,_

_I'll be praying that we all get home someday."_

You desperately prayed that you would make it home, falling asleep with fresh tears sliding down your cheeks, as your music continued to subconsciously lull and soothe you.


	3. Chapter 3

Voices stirred you from your restless slumber, and you groaned, sitting up. They were coming from outside of your door, and you leaned over to turn down Radiohead's "Creep," which was now playing on your I-pod. "Listen, Reindeer Games, I don't like this arrangement any more than you do, but neither of us have much of a choice, so turn that frown upside down!"

"Brother Anthony, please, let me escort Loki to his quarters the rest of the way!"

"Oh, delightful. Now, we're getting ready for the family bonding segment of this hellish tour, are we? I was wondering when that would begin," said the familiar, silky voice. A chill traveled up your spine. You looked out of the window behind you for a moment, seeing that it was pouring down rain and the sky was dark. You snuck out of the bed and tiptoed to the door, putting your ear to it and holding your breath. The footsteps halted briefly.

"Y'know, what? Thor, he's all yours. Best damn idea I've heard all damn day." Footsteps retreated back the way they'd originally come. That was Tony, so that left Thor and…Loki, standing outside of your room. Two demi-gods about two feet away. The novelty of all this had far from worn off for you.

"Who's the quim listening at the door?" You paled and backed away, jumping under the covers and hiding.

"Come, Loki! Never mind that! Let me show you your room."

"Fine, so long as you promise to leave me be once we get there."

"Of course, brother…"

"We are not brothers."

It was quiet for a long time, and you finally plucked up the nerve to return to the door and opened it, peering out into the hall cautiously. It was empty and deathly silent. You stepped back into your room, uncertain and a little nervous. You turned up your music a bit, changing it to your Ska-Punk playlist. "Shining On" by Big D And The Kids Table started playing and you cranked it up a little bit louder, singing along as you explored the compartments in the room. When you discovered how very empty they all were, you moved on to the bathroom. "I think it's stupid all the people who are moaning and moaning…While that damn sun is shining down on our streets." You weren't sure you had the words all right, but you were enjoying the smooth and fun beat and looking in the sink cabinets, when you discovered towels and generic, hotel-like shampoos and conditioners.

With a smile, you went back into the room and moved the I-pod dock to the sink counter, before shutting the door and taking off all of your clothes. You rummaged around under the sink a bit more and were rewarded with some generic toothpaste and an unopened case of toothbrushes. You brushed your teeth first, gargling exaggeratedly, and then stepping over to the commodious shower, examining it curiously. You turned the faucet as far over as it would go, beginning to feel the nip of the well air-conditioned tower. Stepping beneath the hot, steady stream of water, you shuddered at the sudden contrast in temperature, wriggling your toes and shaking your hair around. After showering, you stepped out and wrapped a towel around yourself, pausing the I-pod, opening the door to your room to let some of the steam out, and walking over to the window to see it was still raining, but it had slowed down considerably. The glass was cold as you pressed your fingertips against it, then your forehead, as a sudden wave of nauseating homesickness passed through you.

A tear slid down your cheek, unbidden, and you blinked rapidly. Suddenly, you realized how chilly the room was and shivered. A feeling of being watched sent a prickling sensation across your shoulders, and you turned around to find an empty room staring back at you. You went to get dressed.

You wandered out of your room, fully-clothed and hungry. You moved in the direction you'd heard Tony walk away in, the way you vaguely remembered passing through. "H-hello?" you called anxiously.

"Oh, for crying out loud! How many mewling Midgardians live in this tower?" You whipped around to see the god of mischief and lies himself and you blushed. His emerald eyes were trained irritably on the ceiling, as he let loose a dramatic sigh. His eyes flicked down, looking into yours, sardonic, cocky, and vaguely curious. You pursed your lips and looked away. He was your favorite, but you couldn't let him push you around. "Well, are you going to just stand there, you quibbling mortal, or are you going to introduce yourself? You're in the presence of royalty and a god, you know."

You clenched your jaw and lifted your head high, looking him in the eye again. Now, he had just plain pissed you off. "Listen, pal, just because you were my favorite doesn't mean you get special treatment." An expression of confusion flitted across his face as you advanced on him, poking him directly in the chest. "So, no. I will not introduce myself. Not until you learn some goddamn manners. I wouldn't care if you were Benedict Cumberbatch during the day, who transformed into David Tennant at night and loved to make love, you cannot address people the way you just addressed me." He was looking at the finger you had shoved toward him, then he slowly looked up into your eyes, amazed and startled. Wet hair flying, you whipped around and stalked off, leaving Loki stock-still in shock with a couple of stray water droplets on his cheek. He had noticed you smelled pretty.

Soon, you found your way to the living room, where Tony sat nursing a glass of scotch and Thor and Steve sat googling things on a sleek, new laptop with Clint directing them on what to google. Steve's eyes widened tremendously at whatever Clint had told him to pull up. "Dear, God. Women really do that to themselves?" Steve asked incredulously. Thor looked perplexed, while Clint nodded. Natasha walked in almost at the same time as you from the opposite end.

"Glad to see you're awake and coping," she said, smiling companionably at you. You smiled back, as the guys glanced up to see you, hovering uncertainly in the doorway, hair still dripping slightly.

"Well, hey, Sleeping Beauty!" Tony called happily. You glanced at him. Steve, Thor, and Clint all waved cheerily from their perch on one of the long, leather couches that circled the room.

"Hey, guys…" you started to speak, when your stomach rumbled with frankly alarming voracity and volume. You chuckled nervously. "Listen to that thing, can't get a word in edgewise," you muttered sarcastically.

"If you're hungry, just head to the kitchen and ask Jarvis to whip you something up. Mi casa es su casa, chica bonita," said Tony, winking lewdly.

Oddly enough, Tony's flirting didn't make you feel more uncomfortable, but rather the opposite, it helped you to relax because you could assume your usual post as the grand master of snarky comebacks, so long as Tony kept setting himself up to battle wits with you, which was inevitable. "Apparently, dein Haus ist das Haus von Loki auch." You waggled your eyebrows evilly.

"Aw, c'mon! Why ya gotta be like that? And, hey, you speak German? That's totally hot," Tony said, earning a slap on the back of the head from Natasha, as she walked over to you, looking at your clothes.

"You're going to need some new clothes, since we don't know how long—" Natasha paused. You looked up at her.

"It's okay. I'm not made of glass," you said, smiling reassuringly.

"Never said you were, nor thought it," she said, grinning wryly. "But after you get something to eat, we need to go out and get you some clothes."

"What time is it? Won't everything be closed?" you asked, suddenly wondering just how much time had passed since you initially fell asleep and then showered.

"Hate to break it to you, darling, but you've been asleep since yesterday. You popped into our world in the late hours of the night and have slept soundly through a good twelve hours. Not including the hour or two of your being awake," said Tony.

"Wait, how did you know how long I've been awake?"

"I told Jarvis to let me know when you woke up."

"You mean…He was watching me?"

"Not like that! Sheesh, I mean I asked him to, but he claimed it 'violated the ethics programmed into him upon his creation.'"

"Well, thank God for that," you said, giving Tony a withering look. He shrugged, sipping from his glass.

With a smirk Natasha leaned over the back of the couch Tony sat on. He looked up at her through his eye lashes innocently. "All things considered, I think you owe this girl a new wardrobe, Tony," she said, proffering her hand. He looked at it and groaned. Fidgeting a bit, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, taking a platinum card from it. Plucking it from his hand, Natasha offered you her arm, which you took happily. Tony twisted around, elbow on the back of the couch.

"Do I at least get to come along and witness the fashion show? Particularly, the lingerie display?" That earned him a forceful flick on the forehead and a stern 'Tony!' from Steve, who glanced up from the computer to frown at the billionaire and look apologetically at you. Clint tried to veil his snicker, while Thor just looked confused.

"C'mon, let's get you food," said Natasha, leading you towards the kitchen. She glanced at you, grinning again. "Then, we're going shopping. And if Tony says anything else about it…I know about a dozen ways to kill him with just my thumb, so, no worries there." You giggled excitedly.

After all, it's not everyone who gets to go shopping with Black Widow, with an ultra-badass Avenger. The more you thought about it, the more excited you became. It helped to push the less desirable aspects of your situation to the back of your mind along with the awkward confrontation with Loki.


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha led you into the kitchen, releasing you to explore all it had to offer. After some intense internal deliberation and many pouts couple with various noises, you finally settled on having a bowl of Fruit Loops, jellied and buttered toast, and a couple of sliced up mandarins. Once Jarvis had finished with the toast and the mandarins and you had put together your bowl of cereal, you politely asked the AI if you might have some coffee made. "Certainly, madam," he said. You smiled and poured a glass of water from the cabinet Jarvis referenced upon your asking. You turned to Natasha, who had been watching your progress with an amused expression.

"Say, can I call you Nat? Y'know, for short?" you asked, as you hopped onto the counter and began scooping up bites of cereal, securing the bowl against your stomach with one arm wrapped firmly around it.

"Sure thing," she responded casually. You nodded, and a companionable silence settled in, while you quickly finished the Fruit Loops off.

Jarvis informed you that your coffee was ready and you set your bowl down, preparing to hop down, when Nat held up a hand. "Let me get it," she said. She opened a different cupboard than the one you had retrieved your glass from and pulled a mug out, glancing at you and gesturing. "For future reference, this is where all the mugs are," she said, as she turned and poured a nice cup of Joe from the absurdly large coffee pot. Walking over, she set it, fresh and steaming, next to you, as you now worked your way through the mandarin slices.

"Thank you," you said, as you set the freshly empty bowl in your other empty bowl, taking a bite of your first toast slice and gingerly sipping at that wonderful and abrasive, black nectar. You realized you were eating at an unusually fast pace, but you were extremely hungry, and you'd been dealing with the terrible food options of your college dining hall so long that you'd forgotten meals could taste this good. Just as you polished off the last of your toast, Tony and Thor entered the kitchen. Thor was smiling and greeted you in his booming fashion, bringing an affectionate and amused smile to your lips, while Tony pulled a face, raising his eyebrows and moving to what you assumed (correctly) was his liquor cabinet. Pouring himself more scotch, Tony glanced over at you, as you stacked your plate on top of the two bowls, sipping at your coffee.

"Sheesh, they not feed ya' back in your universe? You've been in here for what? All of fifteen minutes?" he said incredulously.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Oh, they feed us. It just happens to taste like shit," you said, cynically spitting out the expletive. Tony chuckled.

"Ah, college kids. Always complaining," he teased. Thor had retrieved some pop-tarts and was munching away, observing the conversation curiously.

"Um, Iron-Sides? Pot. Kettle. Hand," you began, raising a hand, palm facing out in Tony's direction, "Talk to it." You took another sip of coffee with one hand, while the other staid up, facing Tony.

"Well, you…are just plain mean," said Tony, sticking his tongue out, before crossing his arms and nursing his scotch.

You gave a mischievous smirk and cried out, "Suck it! I regret nothing!" Nat gave a surprised laugh, while Tony tried and failed to keep a straight face, cracking up, while you innocently focused on your coffee, sipping delicately from it. Thor laughed as well, catching the gist of what was going on, despite both yours and Tony's use of Midgardian vernacular.

"Lady _, you are like a much friendlier version of my brother, Loki!" Thor said suddenly, causing you to look at Thor, still smiling, but with your head tilted to the side and brow quirked in slight confusion. You giggled, blushing because your mind immediately conjured up your earlier encounter with Thor's brother. Tony snorted, going back out to the living room. Nat looked like she wasn't sure how to feel, but didn't comment, instead turning to you.

"Hey, I'm going to throw some civilian-friendly clothes on. I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, exiting as well, leaving you with a contented and friendly Thor.

Relieved to be alone with Thor to ask him the question nagging at you, you said, "So, it that a compliment?" Thor looked up at you and grinned, wiping crumbs from his hands.

"Certainly! For all of his faults, my brother has just as many likeable traits. He simply chooses not to share those good ones with other people. Tis most unfortunate." Thor seemed so adamant and sure.

However, you were a bit skeptical, despite having fangirled over Loki incessantly during the Avengers' and Thor's movies. Reasonably speaking, Loki as a real person and Loki as a fictional character were two entirely different things. You were about to ask Thor how he was so sure that Loki possessed these "good" traits if Loki never shared them with other people, when the man himself walked into the room. You became intensely fixated on your nearly empty mug, slipping down from the counter and moving to the coffee pot for a refill. The hairs on the nape of your neck rose, as you sensed eyes intently tracing your form. "Speaking of me, were you?" Loki said, causing irritation to scratch at your insides again because you could practically feel the arrogant smirk that you were sure was sitting lazily on his lovely face.

The old saying "Speak of the devil, and he shall appear" ran through your mind, as you pointedly ignored Loki's query, resuming your perch on the counter and keeping your attention trained upon your coffee. "Ah, broth—I mean, Loki, it is good to see you out of your room! Loki, this is Lady_. Lady _, this is my brother Loki," said Thor excitedly. Loki sneered, opening his mouth to speak. You set your mug down, quickly hopping down and walking over to Loki with your hand out, an evil smile plastered to your face (though to anyone, who didn't have reason to think otherwise, it was a perfectly pleasant smile). You were going to force Loki to politely introduce himself. You imagined this was how the Grinch felt when he was stealing Christmas.

"It's nice to meet you, Loki. After hearing so much about how awfully great you are, I was dying for a proper introduction," you said, as your words oozed with an almost disgusting amount of sarcasm and you batted your eyelashes in mock-innocence. Thor didn't catch any of the irony in your manners and he grinned, thinking that this was going rather well. Loki actually looked taken off guard, but quickly replaced that expression with an equally evil smile, looking you in the eye, as he took your hand.

"It's lovely to meet you, as well…Lady _," he said, and then he bent over your hand, which he had an almost painful grip on, placing an overly-dramatic kiss along your knuckles, keeping eye contact the whole time.

\

Somehow you kept up your cheery façade, even as you feared for your tiny hand in his encompassing grasp, and finally he released you, your hand jerking back a bit from the suddenness of the motion. Unfortunately, Thor thought you two were bosom-buddies already, excusing himself from the room, much to your chagrin. When he'd done so, you'd already turned around, heading back to your spot, but upon his announcement you had promptly turned right back around. You only managed a nervous "Uh!" before Thor was gone, leaving you alone with a mighty prickly demi-god. You did another about face, hoping that ignoring him would make him go away. Because that was likely.


	5. Chapter 5

"It is dangerous to play games with me, mortal," Loki hissed into your ear, as you sensed his body hovering a little too close for comfort behind you. You twisted yourself partway around, craning your neck to give him a better view of your scowl, refusing to be cowed by his proximity, which was really difficult.

"Don't they teach you about personal space in Midgardian Protocol 101? And what games could you possibly be referring to?" you said, straight-faced, drinking coffee cautiously from your mug. His lip twitched as he looked at your perfectly composed face. He moved to stand beside you, crossing his arms.

"I am the god of mischief and lies. Do. Not. Play coy with me," he said in a low, seething tone.

"Loki, I've been nothing but perfectly serious since the moment we first met," you replied, amazing yourself by maintaining an entirely earnest and deadpan countenance. Anger flashed in his now cerulean eyes (you'd forgotten how they seemed to change color every so often on the promotional posters and during the movies). Your inner voice of common sense and self-preservation was practically screaming, but you were having too much fun now. Much like Sherlock Holmes, once you got on a roll you couldn't stop even if you tried.

"I will not be mocked, _," he said, startling you by using your name, so much so, that you didn't notice him edge closer. For a moment, you were distracted by loud laughter from the living room, looking to the door and chugging what was left of your coffee, burning your throat only slightly. You set the mug down and picked up your water, feeling absurdly confident.

You looked up at Loki, who waited expectantly. You gave him your best Cheshire grin (the one that sent your friends running at the very sight of it or conversely the one that also paradoxically filled your friends with giddy anticipation for whatever antics that grin surely promised). "Loki, sweetie—me? Mock you? Oh, perish the thought." You took a long draught of water, setting the less than half-way filled cup down and shifting, pretending Loki wasn't there, as you gathered your dishes and maneuvered to the sink with them.

You started rinsing them, when Jarvis told you that he would take care of all that. A small, sincere smile flitted across your face at that, and you thank the AI for what felt like the millionth time. You dried your hands on your jeggings, thinking of how you always enjoyed washing your dishes in the afternoons at college, letting your hands rest under the hot water and your mind peacefully concentrate on such a simple task. Biting your lip, a little echo of sadness and homesickness reverberated through you, sobering you up in a stunning, sudden way. The memory of your mother watching "Arrow" with you scratched at the periphery of your thoughts, and you stoutly swallowed the lump forming painfully in your throat. You missed your mom so badly.

A pair of hands settled on your hips, swiveling you around and pinning you between their owner and the counter. "Beginning to regret your words now that you've had a proper chance to think them over, love?" When you got lost in your thoughts, you could sometimes get Sherlock-lost in your thoughts, so you dazedly returned to reality and looked at Loki, perplexed and without any hint of guile.

"Loki, you're still here?" you said, frowning slightly and shaking your head.

"Yes, very much so," he huffed, all kinds of annoyed, tightening his grip on you, which you'd just noticed. You blushed furiously and shoved him away, smacking at his hands a bit.

"No touching the merchandise, pal," you said, backing away.

"I'll do as I please," he said, smirking, as he sauntered towards you.

"Oh, really now?" you cried, putting your hands on your hips. Now he gave his best Cheshire grin, though it had a decidedly more sexual overtone. "Skrrrch! Stop right there, buddy! Cease and desist!"

"Why should I?" he said defiantly.

You gave him your "Oh, I don't think so!" face and entered sass mode. "First of all, bitch, please!" you said emphatically. "I will pimp slap you into the next gorram century! Secondly, I do what I want! And you just behave yourself like a good boy. So, ipso facto, you can go ahead and suck it!" You pursed your lips, making a jerking-off motion for emphasis, before peacing out and heading for the living room, freaking out desperately on the inside. You really did know how to push things to the edge and then well over it. Deep, deep, and way down into the abyss over the edge.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony had returned to his seat, as had Thor, who observed curiously whatever fresh horror Clint had brought to his and Steve's attention. Bruce had entered and sat slightly apart from the others while you'd been in the kitchen, and you returned the wave he gave you, quickly gliding over to steal the empty seat next to him. You were sure Loki couldn't have forgotten how badly the Hulk had kicked his butt before, making Bruce probably, strangely enough, one of the safest people to sit next to at this point in time. I mean, considering that you'd basically just told Loki to stick a trunk in his tradesmen's entrance. You greeted Bruce with a forceful smile, trying to shake off the confusing mixture of fear and anger Loki had elicited from you. Loki entered the room, his thin shapely mouth flat and tightly shut. You warily glanced his way. He gave you one cold, disdainful look, before ignoring you entirely and leaving. A small, flowering relief blossomed in your chest, as you focused more completely on the small-talk you were exchanging with Bruce.

Suddenly Natasha rushed into the room, spotting you immediately and coming over to you with what appeared to be a bundle of clothes in her hand. "Sorry, I got called in by Fury for some last minute transport run. He wants some extra eyes to make sure the cargo reaches its intended destination. Clint, you're with me. These clothes will get you through the night," she said, pressing them into your hands carefully. "We'll go tomorrow. Promise." You nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. She nodded, then gestured for Clint to follow her, as she made her way to the elevator. After they had gone, Tony shook the small amount of scotch remaining in his glass in a circular motion, smirking. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"What, Buns of Iron?" you asked. He chuckled.

"It seems that even Fury ships Clintasha." You bit your lip, trying to contain your snickering unsuccessfully. Bruce smiled, shaking his head. Steve and Thor were still looking at the screen of the laptop, when Steve looked at Thor, obviously conflicted.

"Should we, Thor?" Steve asked, sounding scared.

"I know not, Brother Steve. This has, so far, been a rather traumatizing experience. Midgardians are so very strange," Thor replied. You went over to them, going around to lean between them from behind the couch. Steve and Thor turned to you, as you looked at the empty google search they had pulled up.

"What did Clint tell you guys to pull up next?" You flitted your eyes between the two of them, as you awaited their answer.

"Well," Steve began, turning red from the possibility that he was about to say something extremely inappropriate.

"It's okay, Steve, you can just whisper it to me, okay?" you said, giving him a sympathetic smile. He nodded, leaning over and covering his mouth and your ear with a tentative hand. He whispered the word, and you blanched, quickly seizing the laptop and holding the power button until it shut off. Slamming it closed, you shook your head, walking back around to your seat. "Nope, nope, hell no," you said, plopping down. You looked over at a very shocked Steve and perplexed Thor. You waved dismissively at them. "No, you're both far too innocent and adorable. If he tried to tell you about that again, I will kill that stupid bird-brain."

"Roger that, ma'am," said Steve, blushing when you referred to him as 'innocent' and 'adorable,' considering how much younger you were.

"Lady _, I trust your judgment," said Thor, chuckling and full of mirth.

"That probably wasn't very good for the laptop," Bruce pointed out. You gave Tony a malicious grin.

"Don't worry, Bruce dear! Nat and I can get a new one with Irony Man's platinum card tomorrow, if need be." Tony grimaced. "Oh, please! You're a freakin' billionaire, you'll live."

"Sheesh, you're such a gold-digger," he huffed.

"Except gold-diggers usually have to give before they get and that's never happening," you said.

"Guess that just makes me a sucker," he said, pouting.

"Guess so." You both pretended to be legitimately annoyed, until you caught Tony's eye and burst out laughing, with him following suit.

After you both settled down, you stood, smiling still. "Listen, I'm gonna go ahead and throw these pj's from Nat on, but I'm gonna be right back. So, could one of you guys show me to the library? I mean if that's alright," you said, bumbling shyly over the last part.

"You read too? That is so sexy," Tony quipped, receiving a deadly glare from Steve.

"I'll show you the way," said Bruce, jumping in before Tony could start something.

"Thanks," you said quietly, scurrying to your room, trying not to worry about bumping into Loki again.

All the doors down the corridor looked remarkably similar, so that halfway through you stopped, feeling nervous. "Jarvis, dear?" you prompted with an anxious chuckle.

"Yes, madam?"

"Where the hell am I, in relation to my room?"

"You have passed it already, madam. It was doors before the one at which you stand now."

"Ah! Danke schon, Herr Jarvis."

"Bitte schon, Frau _."

You giggled, not having expected the AI to play along. You retraced your steps to the right door, slipping inside quickly and shutting it behind you. The room felt a bit bare now that you really looked at it, but you felt you shouldn't get comfortable. "Better to not get attached," you muttered to the still air surrounding you. A strange tremor and tingle rippled through your spine and up between your shoulder blades, causing you to convulse slightly. You shook it off as a chill, laying the clothes tucked in your arms down on your bed, spreading them out to get a better view of them. Nat had given you a heathered, dark-grey t-shirt, light-grey sweatpants, plain, white ankle-socks, and a clean pair of underwear. Wasting no time, you changed into these clothes, retaining only your bra and folding your old clothes in a neat pile.

Feeling much fresher, you sighed when you realized you didn't have a brush or a comb, and your hair had just about dried. Oh, well, you thought. After all, you had bigger things to worry about. You knew you could've just asked Jarvis for directions to the library, but you wanted the chance to get one of the Avengers alone. You had questions, and you were glad it was Bruce who you'd be directing them towards. He was sweet, but also in the know. Also, it would be nice not to be alone. For several reasons…

You hurried back down the hall, finding Bruce alone, still waiting for you. With a small smile, he stood and beckoned for you to follow him. The elevators' sleek, reflective doors slid open silently, as you both stepped inside without speaking. "The library is on this floor," Bruce began, indicating a particular button. "But Jarvis could've easily told you that." He gave you a searching look.

"I know," you admitted, sighing. "Honestly, I was just hoping to get some answers from someone."

"Such as?"

"Like when I might be able to go home?" you said, bottom lip trembling the slightest bit. You looked at the wall, at the guard rail, and then the floor, avoiding Bruce's kind, warm, brown eyes.

"Hey, I promise that I am going to do my best to figure that out. But, I won't lie, it could be a while, _." Your hands were clenched in fists, as you crossed your arms to hug yourself, attempting not to cry. Bruce gently laid a hand on your shoulder, and, before you knew what you were doing, you turned into him, burying your face in his chest.

Recovering quickly from his surprise, Bruce put his arms around you hesitantly and patted you on the back, as a few tears escaped from your tightly closed eyes. When the elevator doors pinged open, you quickly pulled away, wiping your eyes and sniffling a little. You stepped out with Bruce into what was presumably the library, looking up at him with a slight blush tinting your cheeks. "Thanks, Bruce. I should be fine from here. I just needed to ask…Not that I don't have a million more questions," you said with a shaky laugh. "I just need more time to adjust before I think I'll be ready to ask those questions." He nodded, sympathetic and attentive.

"Well, if you're sure you're alright for now, I've gotta get back to my lab, but like Cap has probably already told you, just get Jarvis to tell us if you need anything, okay?" You nodded, awarding him with a watery smile. He gave your shoulders a squeeze, before heading back to the elevator. "Alright, I'll see you later, _," he said reassuringly. Then he was gone, leaving you feeling a tiny bit relieved of some of the upset you'd been hauling around, trying to suppress and regulate it, as you always did with strong, tender emotions.


	7. Chapter 7

Exploring the library proved extremely diverting. The vaulted and epically expansive windows gave it a strange atmosphere of modern and cathedral-like designs. There were two levels, both filled to the brim with an eclectic band of fresh and cracked spines alike, which all gave off a familiar and comforting collective library aroma. The two levels were connected by twin spiraling staircases that began far up-center of the first level.

You imagined it would be easy to hide in here, which might come in handy in the future. There were plenty of nooks and crannies with comfy old chairs and loveseats stashed in them for the reader who was seeking to remain undisturbed for long spans of time. Your fear of running into Loki again dissipated for a short while, as you ran your fingertips appreciatively over certain beautifully bound copies of books you'd read and leaned contentedly against the cool window pane to take in the view. Then you closed your eyes, humming quietly the way a cat purrs when scratched behind its ears. You took some deep breaths, unaware of the eyes that watched you curiously. Your arms were crossed over your chest, as you leaned against the window, appearing so peaceful you might have been asleep. But, of course, you weren't. Your eyes fluttered open, dreamy and calm. You looked up, and Loki pulled back from the second floor railing, out of sight. "Jarvis?" you called.

"Yes, madam?"

"Does this library happen to have a copy of 'Jane Eyre?'"

"Yes, indeed it does. It is on the second level, right-hand side, sixth shelf over, at the very top."

"Why, thank you, Jarvis darling!" you chirped, skipping over to the staircase and making your ascent.

Using what little power he was granted, Loki cast a cloaking spell over himself to ensure that you didn't see him, even as he hung back, peering at you from around the bend of one shelf, while you moved you moved the ladder along the track to the shelf Jarvis had specified. Even as you slowly rose from the top rung, you realized you'd still have quite a bit of reaching to do, as you saw the book you were wanting resting in the middle of the topmost shelf. It was wedged between "Crime and Punishment" and "Common Sense." You scoffed, extending your arm, as you huffed loudly, "What does Tony have against the goddamn alphabet…and short people?" Fingertips gaining some tiny purchase on the object of your desire, you excitedly began worming it inch-by-inch out of its place. Unbeknownst to you, Loki observed all of this with a smirk.

The book started coming loose, and suddenly it slid right out into your prying hand, jolting you and causing you to lose your balance. You flailed helplessly, and your foot slipped. You screwed your eyes shut as you fell, waiting to hit the floor. The book had clattered to the ground when you'd initially lost your balance, but you never made it that far. Surprised to find that your backside wasn't howling in pain, you slowly blinked, opening your eyes wide as you registered the chest your face was buried in. It was covered by a plain, dark-green shirt. The arms that currently cradled you were pale like ivory and leanly muscled. You lifted your eyes to meet the bright green eyes of Loki, who gazed at you with an amused expression. "Um, hey, fancy seeing you here," you said with a weak chuckle. "Do you generally go around catching girls who fall off ladders in libraries?" He laughed.

"Only the ones I like," he said flirtatiously.

"You can put me down now," you said, beginning to squirm uncomfortably in his tight grip. His hand was touching your arm, and it felt like electricity was flowing through you from even that simple contact. It made you very afraid, though more of yourself than him.

"I am capable of doing so, yes," he said, his smirk growing into a grin.

"Did I give you the impression I was asking? Put me down now," you growled, crossing your arms and staring him down. He merely laughed again, setting you down on your feet.

"As you wish, mortal."

Nat's borrowed shirt had become disheveled during your rapid descent and subsequent rescue of sorts, having ridden up to reveal a small strip of your abdomen. After taking a step back from Loki, you noticed this and tried to nonchalantly pull it back down, clearing your throat and cracking your knuckles. Your movements were very abrupt and stiff, and you glanced over at where the copy of "Jane Eyre" had landed, wincing when you noticed that some of the pages had been bent out of shape.

Gingerly, yet swiftly, you went to the book, kneeling down and picking it up as though it were a child who had skinned his knee. You straightened all the pages to the best of your abilities, pressing the book shut and hugging it to your chest protectively. You turned around, taking a few steps so that you were facing Loki, but the stairs were at your back, in case escape became necessary. "Loki," you began, sucking in your lower lip, then releasing it as you thought of what you were trying to say. You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes closed.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"Shh! I'm thinking," you snapped unintentionally, a look of shock overtaking your scowl, and, finally, you got the guts to look Loki steadily in the eye. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bite your head off. A-and thank you. Y'know, for not letting me bust my butt. I wanted to propose a truce, since I've got no clue how long I'll be here or how long you'll be here—"

"—So, it's true then?" Loki interrupted. "My 'brother' Thor informed me in that bombastically charming way of his that you were from an alternate version of reality—I paraphrase obviously—where I am merely a fictional character. Is that what you meant by saying I was your favorite, as in your favorite character? You do realize I'm the villain, do you not?" He flashed his straight, shining teeth in a grin, chuckling excitedly.

"So? I've always had a soft spot for villains and anti-heroes. One of my other favorite characters is Hannibal Lecter, a brilliant, sophisticated psychiatrist, who cannibalizes the rude. That doesn't mean that if I ever met him for real I'd let him eat my liver. So, don't go getting any stupid notions that I would ever show you special treatment or leniency just because I thought fictional 'you' was pretty cool. Anyway! As I was saying, I'd like to call a truce. You ignore me, and I'll ignore you, and everybody wins," you said, feeling very old all of sudden.

"Are you saying I'm not your absolute favorite? Well, I am extremely jealous. Where might I find this murderous cannibal? I'll not suffer his existence, not if it detracts from your adoration of me—"

"—Loki! The truce," you hissed irritably.

"Ah, yes, that…No."

"What?"

"No, you're far too entertaining to ignore."

"Un-fuckin'-believable," you said with an exasperated expression. Loki stepped towards you, waggling a finger playfully.

"Ah, ah, ahhh! That is no way for a lady to speak," he said.

"Well, I'm not a lady, damnit, I'm a woman, and I am leaving," you spat, marching away, down the stairs with him following closely behind. He put a hand on your shoulder to stop you, receiving the evil eye from you consequently.

"Hold on just a moment. I am interested in Midgardian literature and would be grateful for a guide. For your trouble, I am willing to promise you that I will not harm nor maliciously prank you in any way," he said. You furrowed your brow, searching his face for any signs of deceit or conspiracy. He appeared sincere, but then he would, wouldn't he?

"You promise?"

"Yes. You have my word, for what it's worth."

"Pinky promise?" You proffered your minute pinky to Loki, straight-faced and expectant.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a Midgardian thing. You lock your pinky with mine if you agree to it. But! If you break a pinky promise, it is a graver offence than even any that you have perpetrated."

"Certainly you jest?"

"I most certainly do not," you blustered indignantly, thrusting your waiting pinky toward him once more. "So, Loki, do you pinky promise?"

"Yes, I pinky promise," he said, interlocking his pinky with yours, sending a thrill up your spine when you felt how cold it was. You barely restrained your laughter, as Loki seemed to be taking this very seriously.

"Do you swear upon the honor of your mother, Queen Frigga—"

"Oh, for Asgard's sake, woman!"

"What? You already pinky promised. What's a little swearing on your mother's honor?" you asked, beginning to tear up from the effort it took not to crack, but finally you couldn't take it, covering your mouth as stifled snickers began breaking out. You looked away from Loki, trying to get it together.

"Is something funny then?" he asked crabbily. You burst out cackling and had to sit down on the steps. Loki crossed his arms, glowering down at you from a few steps above.

Standing, as you spoke, you said, "You should have seen your face when you pinky promised. Sweet, Abraxas, it was so priceless." Steadying yourself against the rail, you grinned from ear-to-ear at Loki with your own, none-too-shabby teeth. Four years of braces had paid off. "Yes, is my answer, by the way. This will be good practice for the future, assuming I have one," you added, as a micro-expression of sadness flitted over your face, unnoticed by you, but not by Loki. He broke down and smiled back at you.

"Practice for what?"

"I was going to school to become an English professor," you said. "Basically a teacher of a higher level of education, focused on literature. It seems somewhat fateful that I'm here to guide you through human literature." He scoffed.

"Yes, it does, though it seems rather inconvenient for you," he said pointedly. You barked a laugh.

"You're telling me. But Fate and I have never seen eye-to-eye. Mostly it's because she's always trying to tell me what to do. That crusty bitch," you rambled whimsically and with a note of cynical resignation. "Alright, Loki dear!" you cried suddenly, clapping your hands together. "Your first assignment is William Shakespeare. He was a Midgardian playwright, whose works are collectively transcendent. Find copies of 'Hamlet,' 'Macbeth,' 'Julias Caesar,' 'Romeo and Juliet,' and 'As You Like It.' Start reading them and when you've started, you and I will meet here in the library and begin going through each play together, untangling things. Be prepared to read them out loud because that will happen. Happy reading!" Leaving him no time to react, you dashed off, down to the first level, exiting the library giddily.


	8. Chapter 8

PT.8

"Jane Eyre" and Cage The Elephant both worked in unison to lull you into a peaceful sleep later that night. You awoke, curled up with the book hugged tightly to your chest, as a pleasant warmth clung about you due to the well-insulated bed-clothing pulled over your body. Part of you didn't want to get up because this bed was as soft as a slice of heaven, but you looked out of the window, which you left uncovered, to see the slowly rising sun.

Morning began to wake in your bones too, however, as thoughts of shopping with Natasha Romanov drove away any impulses you had to simply pass out again. You set "Jane Eyre" on the bedside table and threw the sheets and covers aside, leaping out of bed. Turning to your I-pod, you played your upbeat playlist, moving the dock to the bathroom again and cranking the volume, as you brushed your teeth and showered. You wrapped a towel around yourself, twirling about, air-guitarring, and swaying your hips, while steam and sound waves trailed behind you, as you danced excitedly from the bathroom.

There was a sudden burst of spastic knocks on your door. Too distracted to give it much thought, you went and opened it. You immediately frowned when you found Tony standing there, holding what appeared to be your clothes, but less rumpled. The clothes you fell through that big ass portal in. Tony looked ridiculously pleased with himself. "Well, good morning! Like really good morning. So, I had Jarvis wash your clothes. Thought I'd drop by and hand 'em off personally," he said, quirking an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes.

"Let me guess. Like really, really personally?" you responded sarcastically, grabbing the clothes from him. He smirked.

"Hey, you need a hand—maybe with that really tricky towel? I'm here for you, sweetheart," he said. You shook your head disapprovingly. A thought suddenly occurred to you.

"Tony, if you really love Pepper, suck it up and make it up to her," you said seriously, making sure he caught your eye. He seemed stunned, completely caught off guard. He sputtered. "Sorry, I probably know way more about your personal life than I should, considering, where I'm from, you're just a character," you added, feeling a bit bad.

"No, no. You're right, darling. Completely right," he replied slowly.

As you both stood there, collecting yourselves, Loki happened to be walking by. The scene he found was strange to say the least and a wonderful opportunity to poke at Stark. "Lady _, is this pompous imbecile bothering you?" Loki queried, a delicious smirk on his face. Tony grimaced and scowled. You felt flustered, confused by Loki's, even if affected, concern and gallantry.

"Um, no, no," you stammered. "Thanks for having these cleaned, Tony. I'm going to listen to my music and ignore this verbal Mexican standoff waiting to happen because I really can't deal with any of this right now," you added, slamming the door shut and locking it. Not right now, just not now, you thought firmly.

"Great, you scared her off again! Nice job, Reindeer Games. Why don't you just crawl into a bush somewhere and die? That'd be awesome," Tony said, his voice muffled. You heard his footsteps retreat down the hall, heavy and unhappy. You were almost dressed, moving quickly.

You didn't know it, but Loki hesitated by your door before leaving, if only for a fraction of second. It was a sliver of a moment in which he experienced true indecision. Then he was back to wondering how you might factor into his plans. What use might you possibly serve for him? But those thoughts weren't for you to know. He was the master of deception after all. You finished getting ready, turning off your music and heading out to the living room. Natasha was waiting there, chatting casually with Clint. She smiled at you when you entered the room, muttering something to Clint and standing. "Grab a quick breakfast and then let's get to the fun portion of today," she said, seeming extremely chipper. Black Widow didn't seem the type to gush over girly things, but that certainly didn't mean that she did not enjoy them. You smiled in way of response, hopping into the kitchen. You asked Jarvis for some pancakes with chocolate syrup and whipped cream on them and a pot of coffee. It couldn't get any better than this, you thought blissfully, munching away.

Clint was gone when you reentered the living room, and you and Natasha encountered no one on your way out of Stark Tower.

~Time Skip of one hour brought to you by a made-up alien race and my potential plot twists~

Your first stop had been American Eagle because you wanted to stock up on jeggings. American Eagle jeggings looked like skinny jeans, but were more stretchy, light-weight, and ultimately form-fitting. Your first order of business was to buy a pair of every single variety in your size and you thought you were going to pass out from how awesome it felt to be that spoiled rotten. Natasha laughed at your geeking out over every shiny or pretty object you saw. You made her laugh even more when you put together frankly fabulous but somewhat ridiculous outfits. Ridiculous in the sense that they were highly impractical. High heels, short skirts, giant hats, long scarves, bug-eyed sunglasses, chunky necklaces and earrings, nothing escaped your scrutiny or Tony's platinum card (if it happened to strike your fancy). Oddly enough you felt as though you were being watched on occasion, while you stood eyeing yourself in the dressing room mirrors. You shook it off.

After passing through a few other stores, you went gaga over the bags and accessories in Charming Charlie's and H&M and then went into Aerie and Victoria's Secret to stock up on lingerie. You also stopped in a couple extremely expensive stores. Like stores that made your mother's bank account cringe just to hear the names of them, such as Calvin Klein and Juicy Couture. Even with the unlimited power of Tony's platinum card, you reflexively recoiled from the price tags you glanced over. Natasha gently reminded you that you really could get whatever you wanted. Tony had sent a car to wait for you outside each store you entered, so you wouldn't be burdened with your purchases. You started to feel a bit queasy at the thought of how easily money could disappear. It made you think of the lower middle class home you'd come from and hoped to see again. No amount of riches could change that. However, they definitely helped to soften the sting.

You were starting to get exhausted when you realized, you hadn't even gotten to your favorite shoe stores yet. It was a long, luxurious day, and Natasha didn't seem to mind, getting a couple things for herself here and there, making you promise to keep it on the DL. By the time you'd finished, there wasn't even room for you or Natasha in the car Tony had sent, so you both opted to walk, while the driver returned to Stark Tower to unload the loot of the day. You felt sorry for him and hoped he didn't have to do it alone. You gestured to an ice-cream shop, as you and Natasha passed by it, asking if she wanted to stop and try it out. She nodded, leading the way inside. You both got a mixture of your favorite flavors, sitting down across from each other at a small table. Natasha looked up at you searchingly. "So, what's the deal with you and Loki? Did you introduce yourself without kneeling first or something?" she asked, smirking.

"Eheh, yeah sort of, but we worked it out. At least, I think. I promised to guide him through Midgardian literature, if he promised to leave me be," you responded slowly, sticking your tongue on the roof of your mouth as you got brain-freeze.

"A word of caution? Be careful and don't talk with him too much or let him get in your head. He's a killer and a manipulative son-of-a-bitch," she said curtly. You snorted, nodding.

"I know, believe me. I promise I'll be careful."

"Good."


	9. Chapter 9

*Time Skip of one week brought to you by Raven's roundhouse kick and Cyborg's "Oh, snap!" reaction*

"I do not see the point of this."

"Ugh, just do it, okay? It helps to further your understanding of the material, and just do it."

Loki looked at you like you had suddenly sprouted horns and a third eye, and then he smirked. "Is this how all Midgardian professors deliver their tuition, or just you?" You gave him an "Oh, ha-ha, you're so funny" face, before looking back down at the play on the table in front of you. You were in one of the various nooks of Stark Tower's giant library trying to teach a wannabe god and not-so-wannabe murderer Shakespeare.

"Listen, you cheeky swamp donkey, I'll read the other characters' parts in the scene, while you just read King Claudius, sound fair?" you offered snidely.

"What? No, if you insist this is a helpful exercise, at least allow me the 'liberty' of choosing my own character," he said, betraying a small hint of his bitterness at his imprisonment, which he really had no one to blame for but himself (though you valued your life too much to say that out loud, despite your rather cavalier treatment of the god-prince).

You remembered all too well how he had enucleated that guy in Germany. You liked your eyeballs where they were, as well as your other organs. In fact, you were rather surprised Loki hadn't killed you the second you weren't quibbling in fear before him. It was probably for the sake and security of his own personal interests no doubt, but nonetheless he was kind of a hothead (ironically enough) and a bit of a sprog. He had also killed Phil, which was so not cool. However, upon remembering this fact, you were left scratching your head as to how the hell Phil was still alive. You'd seen him in the meeting room for yourself. At first you wondered if maybe Fury had commissioned for a Phil android to be created, which gave you the wiggins. When you'd asked Tony about it he'd given the usual flirt-divert run-around before divulging some really confidential "trade-secrets."

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s research of the tesseract and all its possible applications hadn't been limited to military-grade weaponry, extending to emergency medical revival units, which would apply an energy stimulation to encourage cellular-level regeneration. The prototype was still in extremely experimental stages, but this was Phil Fucking Coulson (no joke, that's his middle name, at least, according to Director Fury). Besides, if it didn't work, he was dead anyway. There was nothing to lose. Fury tactfully waited until after the Avengers had gotten their shit together and defeated Loki to tell them that the man who had basically become their rallying cry wasn't dead after all, but sleeping it off in a highly secure S.H.I.E.L.D medical facility. Supposedly, the first thing Coulson said to Tony was, "C'mon, Stark, it was just a flesh wound."

You looked at Loki steadily, tongue-in-cheek. "Then who the fuck would you like to be, your highness?"

"Hamlet. I would like to be Hamlet." You grinned slyly.

"Oh, so you'd like to be the smart-ass, crafty, half-mad, misogynistic prince, who hates the king and likes to sulk and brood?" you asked. Loki narrowed his eyes, working his jaw.

"Problem?"

"Not at all," you said, trying to resist smirking, while shaking your head dismissively.

Loki gave you one of his legendary, icy glares, but did not say anything. "You know, for the god of mischief and lies, you sure know how to suck the fun out of things. I'm just ribbing you a bit, nothing personal. That's just how I treat everyone, which may not seem very flattering to you, but I'm not particularly keen on pleasing anybody, understand?" you said, unable to keep your fat mouth shut. "Besides, it wouldn't kill you to be a little friendly with someone around here. You're not human, but Asgardians, I mean psychologically speaking, aren't that different compared. They're social creatures. Sharing a little banter with me might actually be good for you, psychologically." You glanced over to see if any of this was sticking to find Loki giving you startlingly piercing attention, as though he were assessing the value and the trueness of your words. You raised your eyebrows questioningly.

"Supposing, you speak truly," he began, though he knew that you did (you weren't a very good liar, so it was easy to pick up on any signs of deceit, and there were none). "Why would you care for my psychological state? I'm a known murderer and 'psychopath.' Also, why on earth should I want to be friendly with you, you pathetic worm?" You actually laughed. He seemed irritated by this fact.

"Okay, to address your first question, I don't. I don't particularly care, except I'm bored, and I hate being bored. You are not boring. You are interesting. Mostly because of your status as an alleged 'psychopath.' To address your second question, they say that 'familiarity breeds contempt,' but you already hold me in contempt, and I already hold you in 'contempt.' Why don't we at least be gentleman and gentlelady about it and enjoy each other's company simply because each of us thinks that we are better than the other, so we can secretly hold everything each the other says in the lowest possible regard and laugh ourselves silly later when we're alone because of how ridiculously stupid and absurd the other is?" You smiled widely, quite proud of your clever, if somewhat convoluted, reasoning. It was a very Jane Austen-esque argument. Loki appeared momentarily mystified, before a surprised chuckle escaped him.

"Very well, mortal. I grant you leave to be somewhat familiar with me, and I shall deign to be somewhat familiar with you, but only because it might make my torment in this cage less complete, and to see me even slightly less than miserable will make Stark livid, which is a state that I think rather suits him," Loki said, chuckling some more. Part of you was secretly relieved because all of your limbs were still intact, and Loki had actually laughed.

"Sweet. Let's get started," you responded, pulling out your copy of the play from the very expensive Coach tote resting next to your chair. Flipping it open to the corresponding page, you scanned for your starting point.

About an hour later, you had made it to scene 2 of Act 3, both of you enjoying yourselves far more than either of you expected to. Your experience with theatre in high school and college made it easier for you to jump from character to character, but it was still very tiring. You reached the exchange between Ophelia and Hamlet during the dumb show meant to depict King Claudius' treachery through the medium of acting. Loki's eyes flickered with something strange when Hamlet passed his mother by to sit with Ophelia, declaring, "here's metal more attractive." You were too busy reading Polonius' excited interjection directed towards the king to notice.

"Lady _, shall I lie in your lap?" Loki asked, startling you by injecting your real name into the line. You jerked your head up, looking at Loki skeptically. He was watching you with a gaze so intense it was a wonder that you hadn't been transformed into a human popsicle by those cold, hooded eyes.

"Loki, that's not the line," you said simply. A strange twinge seized your stomach, as the heat crept into your cheeks. After a few moments in awkward, pregnant silence, Loki finally relented, pulling back slightly and glancing at the play.

"Is that not it? Ah, I see. Lady, shall I lie in your lap?"

"No, my lord," you replied with a little more emphasis than was really necessary.

"I mean, my head upon your lap?"

"Ay, my lord."

"Do you think I meant country matters?"

"I think nothing, my lord," you said, as an edge seeped into your voice both because it fit the character's emotions in the scene (or so you imagined) and because you were still weirded out by Loki's strange behavior.

"That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs."

"What is, my lord?"

"Nothing." You felt yourself smirking slightly, despite still being unsettled. The 'nothing' joke always tickled you.

"You are merry, my lord."

"I am disposed to be gregarious and communicative today," Loki said, quirking an eyebrow. You were thoroughly thrown. Now, he's quoting "Jane Eyre," you thought bewilderedly.

"You know, you're really bad at this," you said. He grinned. "And since when do you know 'Jane Eyre' by heart?"

"You seemed so taken with the story, I thought to read it for myself to see why you were so fond of it. I was surprised to find it was so well-written for a Midgardian woman. I've not yet finished, but I enjoy Mr. Rochester's character, though he is occasionally overly-dramatic in his exclamations," he explained in even tones, almost cordially. Ignoring the irony of his criticism and the negative implication about Midgardian women and women in general, you nodded slowly, processing the utter strangeness of this occurrence.

"Well, I'm glad you like it so far," you said quietly. "You know, I've just about exhausted my ability to concentrate on this for today. So, maybe let's pick up on this tomorrow?" You dumped your play into your purse, shouldering it as you stood.

"Right, of course," Loki said dubiously.

You began to walk away, when Loki called out, "Oh, and, _, I like it when you call me 'my lord.'" Pursing your lips and blushing furiously, you continued on your way without replying, feeling Loki's simpering expression boring into your back.


End file.
